


Beach Looks

by darkbluebox



Series: AFTG Summer Prompts [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pining, Renee POV, Slice of Life, aftg summer, aftgsummer, prompt: swimwear, renee is a disaster gay, whats better than gals bein pals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25708195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkbluebox/pseuds/darkbluebox
Summary: “Shopping,” Allison announces, with a gleeful kind of finality. “Come on, Walker. Get Walk-ing.”Renee closes her book and sets it aside. She did have plans for her afternoon, but fighting Allison on issues like shopping is as worthwhile as standing up to a tsunami. “What kind of shopping?”Allison’s eyes flick upwards as though she’s struggling not to roll them. “Summer shopping. I am not going to the beach dressed in the same rags I wear here.” Allison tugs disdainfully at her strappy vest top. Renee is no expert, but 'rags' is the last word she would use to describe anything Allison wears.“I see,” she says charitably. “You want a beach look.”
Relationships: Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker (All For The Game)
Series: AFTG Summer Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862743
Comments: 13
Kudos: 46
Collections: AFTG Summer 2020





	Beach Looks

**Author's Note:**

> For the #aftgsummer event  
> Prompt: swimwear

“Shopping,” Allison announces, with a gleeful kind of finality. “Come on, Walker. Get Walk- _ing_.”

Renee closes her book and sets it aside. She did have plans for her afternoon, but fighting Allison on issues like shopping is as worthwhile as standing up to a tsunami. “What kind of shopping?”

Allison’s eyes flick upwards as though she’s struggling not to roll them. “Summer shopping. I am _not_ going to the beach dressed in the same rags I wear _here_.” Allison tugs disdainfully at her strappy vest top. Renee is no expert, but _rags_ is the last word she would use to describe anything Allison wears.

“I see,” she says charitably. “You want a beach look.”

Allison snaps her fingers. “That’s my girl.” She offers Renee a hand to pull her up from her seat, arms flexing as she takes Renee’s weight with dizzying ease. Renee pretends to smooth out her clothes, giving herself a moment to hide her fluster.

Allison drives them into Columbia. Renee sees little difference between the smaller, locally-owned shops in Palmetto and the larger branches in the city, but for Allison it may as well be the difference between life and death. Renee watches Allison drive from the corner of her eyes, notes the way she taps her acrylic nails against the wheel, the way the slither of wind from the air conditioner toys with her hair.

Renee follows Allison into one of her usual haunts, an eye-wateringly expensive boutique that boasts nothing even close to resembling beach wear. She smiles faintly at one of the employees, praying that he won’t try to start a conversation with her. Renee isn’t a material girl, never has been, but she can’t help but feel out of place here, her simple, modest clothes sticking out like a sore thumb amidst the shop’s more glamorous patrons. Allison remains oblivious to Renee’s discomfort as she examines a shelf of shiny, leather handbags.

“Last season,” she whispers conspiratorially to Renee. Renee smiles, as though in on the joke, but privately can’t tell the difference between these handbags and any others.

Finally, Allison grows tired of dazzling the boutique’s employees and drags them into a shop which holds at least some promise of beach wear. Soon, both girls are laden with all manner of dressy shorts, loose, poncho-like tops and strappy swimsuits. Allison is sporting a wide-brimmed sunhat which she tilts at an angle in order to wink at Renee. “What do you think? Too cowboy?”

Renee reaches up to tip the brim back, smiling. “No such thing.”

Allison’s lips twitch; for all her confident exterior, she’s still strangely vulnerable to genuine compliments. It makes Renee wonder exactly how much she buys into her own brand, whether she really has as much confidence in herself as she wants the world to think she has. A wicked glint enters her eye as she leads Renee towards the changing rooms.

“Now the fun begins!”

“Weren’t we having fun before?” Renee asks innocently. Allison shushes her with an armful of clothes.

“Try these ones on. I’m not as good at getting your size right as I am mine.”

“What?” Renee looks at the pile of clothes with new eyes. “These are for me? Allison, I really don’t need-”

“Sssshhhhh.” And this time, Allison puts a finger to Renee’s lips. Renee freezes at the point of contact, her world narrowing to the light pressure of Allison’s finger against her mouth. “We don’t have to buy them if you don’t like them. Just give it a go first, okay?”

Once again, Renee relents to the unstoppable force of nature that is Allison Reynolds. Most of her selections are surprisingly _Renee_ , long, flowing tops and trousers every colour of sunset, maybe a little flashier than anything she would pick out on her own, but still stylishly modest. Allison insists on a catwalk, applauding Renee every time she draws back the changing room curtain regardless of whether the clothes in question end up on the _returns_ pile. Renee is similarly complimentary about Allison’s choices, and although Allison knows that Renee understands fashion as well as the next person, she still accepts Renee’s admiration with a faint smile and the bow of her head.

At the bottom of the pile is a selection of one-piece swimsuits. They aren’t the practical sporty pieces Renee usually takes on holiday with her, and they leave far more of Renee exposed than she’s used to. Some of them have frills, and one has a bunch of dangly straps that are…meant to tie together somehow?

“Come on, Kate Moss, what’s the holdup?” Allison calls from the other side of the curtain.

“I don’t even know how to get this one on, Alli.” Renee spins, trying to ignore her reflection as the changing room mirrors bounce it back and forth over and over around her. She thinks the two cords are supposed to make a bow at the back, but _how_ she’s supposed to tie them behind her back… “I feel trussed up like a turkey.”

“Is that the strappy floral with the low-cut back?”

Renee spins again, catching the curtain with her elbow. “I think so?”

“Okay, I’m sending reinforcements. Knock knock,” Allison slips through the curtain before drawing it closed behind her. The changing room wasn’t really built for two; were it not for the advantage of Allison’s high heels, they would practically be nose-to-nose. “Looking good, Renee,” Allison continues, although her eyes don’t leave Renee’s face.

Renee gestures helplessly to the loose cords. “How? Why?”

“We must suffer for our art,” Allison says haughtily. She takes the cords from Renee’s hands and slips her arms around Renee to draw them around to her back. Her chin comes to rest on Renee’s shoulder, and for a moment it’s like they’re hugging, although with far more exposed skin on Renee’s part than the action would usually involve. Allison smells of perfume that probably cost more that a month’s rent, sweet and light like the first breath of morning air.

“Stay still,” Allison murmurs, the words tickling the skin behind Renee’s ear. Renee does her best, but the goosebumps that appear under the brush of Allison’s touch come regardless. Renee watches from one of the angled reflections as Allison’s fingers deftly tie the cords into a neat bow. She meets Allison’s gaze in the mirror as she leans back, squeezing Renee’s shoulders. “Perfect.”

“It is pretty,” Renee admits, “But how am I supposed to put it on by myself?”

“Well,” Allison says. She spins Renee around to face the mirror and slots her arms around her once again, chin coming to rest on her other shoulder. The opposing mirrors bounce the image back and forth, an infinity of Renees and Allisons looking back at them. “I guess you aren’t.”

They buy the swimsuit. Allison is always there to lend a hand, after all.

The trick lies in persuading her to help Renee get _out_ of it, too.

**Author's Note:**

> What's better than a couppla gals bein pals?
> 
> Come say hi [on tumblr](https://darkblueboxs.tumblr.com) [and twitter.](https://twitter.com/darkblueboxs)
> 
> I've got a couple more pieces planned for aftg summer, so stay tuned!


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